The Curious Case of the Missing Eyelashes
by SammyGetMePie
Summary: Short story involving Sherlock and my OC Sherry. Sherlock realises he has made a mistake when he uses Sherry's makeup for an experiment. Read and Review!


**The Curious Case of the Missing Eyelashes**

Dates were always exciting.

They were a time for dressing up, flirting and games. Furtive glances across the table, shying gazes at the other and discreet foot rubs under the table.

For Sherry it was too long since she had been on a date. Far too long and she couldn't help but wonder if they'd changed it.

She snorted as she coated her eyelids in purple powder. Even if the mechanics of dating had changed, she wouldn't be surprised. Living with Sherlock Holmes prepared her for almost anything. Whether it be manic chases across the city or gunshots at four in the morning.

Life was certainly never boring and Sherry found herself wondering why she would change it by adding a boyfriend to the equation.

Sherlock would not approve. He would most likely make some sort of rude comment or deduction and thus begin Sherry's isolation from the world.

There were times when she thought her and Sherlock could have something. They often shared the same thoughts and although she would never be able to match the intellect of her flatmate, it was nice to have that special connection.

But the idea was doubtful. Sherlock Holmes did not do girlfriends. Or boyfriends. Maybe. Sherry made a mental note to ask John if Sherlock was gay. She hoped the answer was no.

Sherry glanced down at her phone to see it flashing.

One new message.

Sliding the screen to unlock the phone, Sherry scanned her eyes over the text and huffed. The message read:

Sorry Sherry but I can't make it tonight. An important work situation has arisen. Could be dangerous. Maybe another time.

Sherry rolled her eyes and sauntered into the living room to see Sherlock draped across the sofa, eyes closed and hands clasped together as if in prayer.

"What is this?"

Sherlock opened an eye. "Your phone I am guessing. Honestly Sherry, even you are not as stupid as this normally. Maybe this date of yours has weakened your mind."

Sherry smacked him around the head. "You sent this to me."

Sherlock fully opened his eyes. "I did not."

"Yes you did. It's so obvious."

Sherlock frowned, looking thoroughly put out. "How did you know?"

"You wrote 'Could be dangerous'."

"Ah. I see. Careless mistake really. Still, your date won't be showing up at the restaurant. I made sure of that."

Sherry growled. "Well why did you do that?"

"Because I don't want you going out on dates." Sherlock replied simply as he resumed his previous position on the couch.

Sherry flew into a rage. "That's utterly unfair. I just want to have a normal life. Is that so much to ask? Everything always has to be clever with you, always interesting. Well this is one part of my life that I don't need you interfering in."

By now she was close to tears. "You spoil everything." Her voice had quietened drastically, now sounding the most pathetic and upset she had ever been.

Sherlock looked up in surprise. Sherry never revealed her emotions. Well, her vulnerable ones. Not ever. Not when she was held hostage by the American Assailant involved with The Woman. Not when Moriarty had drugged her to within an inch of her life and unceremoniously dumped on the doorstep of 221 Baker Street barely alive. Not when her and Sherlock had gotten drunk and he had muttered that he had feelings for her.

Not even then.

Sherlock hardly noticed John entering the room and comforting Sherry in her emotional state. He was too distracted by the mistake he had made. It was selfish of him to sabotage Sherry's date for his own purposes.

Ah. Guilt. So we meet again.

Sherry cleared her throat. "John. You are taking me on a date. Right now." She flounced out of the room to finish getting ready, leaving an extremely confused John who eventually shrugged and resigned to Sherry's order, going to his bedroom to change.

It was a pity that Sherlock didn't realise that he had used a part of Sherry's makeup kit for an experiment. An experiment that involved superglue and its bond extremities.

He was alerted to this fact as Sherry's ear piercing scream reverberated around the apartment (and into other houses in the street too no doubt).

Both him and John rushed into their flatmate's bedroom to see her trying to prise her eyelashes apart.

After recovering from the recent shock of Sherry's screech, John immediately flew into doctor mode.

"Sherry. You need to tell me what happened." He insisted.

Sherry gritted her teeth. "Damn Sherlock Holmes! That's what happened! You superglued my freaking eyelashes together. What, was it another sabotaging attempt for my date? Was it?"

Sherlock actually took a step back after hearing the venom in Sherry's tone. If she was angry at him earlier… boy was she flaming furious now.

John glared at Sherlock and then turned back to Sherry. "Are you allergic to any of the ingredients?"

Sherry shook her head. "It stings but I don't think any got into my eyes."

"Thank god." Sherlock whispered, now genuinely concerned.

"Yes," Sherry snarled, "It's a miracle isn't it?" Her head whipped back around to face John as he tried to separate her top eyelashes from the bottom ones.

"It's no use." He muttered. "We'll have to go to the hospital. Hopefully they'll be able to get it off there."

"Hopefully?" Sherry squeaked as she allowed herself to be led downstairs and into a cab. She heard Sherlock instruct the driver where to go and offered him another £20 if he could get to the hospital within ten minutes.

The cab accelerated and Sherlock turned to Sherry. "I am so sorry." He whispered, finding difficulty in saying those words. The great Sherlock Holmes does not apologise.

Sherry's head dropped to face her lap as she felt tears that were unable to fall prick her eyes.

John sighed. "Why did you even use her mascara for an experiment that involved superglue? That's just silly."

Sherlock sighed. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Mmm. Excellent." Sherry crossed her legs so tight, Sherlock wondered if she would ever separate them.

The cab pulled over at the curb and the three of them rushed out; Sherlock pausing to throw some notes at the driver before quickly following his flatmates.

After Sherry's details were jotted down by the receptionist, she was ushered into a room where she was lightly pushed down to sit on a bed and told to tilt her head up.

From behind her eyelids she could slightly see a bright light and knew the doctor was surveying the damage to her eyes.

In her mind she prayed that he wasn't hot. That would be such a disaster. How embarrassing was it to show up at a hospital with your eyelashes stuck together to then be examined by a fit doctor?

Sherry could hear the doctor start asking John questions which he answered to the best of his ability. She frowned slightly. She could talk you know. It wasn't as if her lips were glued shut.

Oh god. What if Sherlock had used her lipstick for his experiment? No, that couldn't be right as she had used it earlier. Still, she had more than one tube of lipstick.

Pushing that thought to the back of her mind (yet not entirely forgetting it, she would have to check all of her makeup kit later), she refocused on the conversation.

"There's only one way to fix this." She heard the doctor say.

Before John had even uttered his next question, Sherry knew what this 'solution' was.

"What is it?" John asked.

The doctor cleared his throat. "We'll need to cut the eyelashes off."

Sherry dug her nails into the sheets of the bed until the pain was almost unbearable and growled loudly. She felt the bed shift slightly and got a whiff of aftershave before it disappeared abruptly. She realised Sherlock had been sitting next to her all that time. How had she not noticed his presence? Maybe she had but it just didn't register. No that couldn't be it. She would have told him to go away. Unless she wanted him next to her. She grit her teeth at the conflicting feelings she harboured for the consulting detective.

"Is that okay?" The doctor's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

Sherry resigned herself. "Sure."

With each snip of the scissors she felt like punching Sherlock in the face. This was all his fault. Damn his experiments. It would have been nice to have a little warning.

You know: I put superglue in your mascara. Don't use it.

No such luck.

It was over pretty quickly. When Sherry opened her eyes for the first time in what seemed years, she was met with the sight of the hottest guy she had ever seen. So much for an ugly doctor. But after a careful look she realised that it wasn't the doctor that she had thought was gorgeous.

It was Sherlock.

Her cheeks flamed and she mentally kicked herself. It's just the light. I'm unused to it. Yet no matter what she told herself, she couldn't rid herself of the fact that she had fallen for Sherlock Holmes.

Badly.

When the three of them got back to Baker Street, John announced he was going to bed, leaving Sherry and Sherlock alone in the living room.

Sherlock spoke first. "I am sorry you know."

"I know. But what you did was stupid."

Sherlock cringed at her choice of wording. He had never been called stupid before. Well, she hadn't actually said that in so many words but it still stung. "I know. I don't know why I did it. Can you forgive me? Please?"

Sherry blinked. (A strange sensation now she had no eyelashes.) Did Sherlock Holmes just beg her to forgive him?

"Um yeah I guess but you are most definitely paying for my eyelash treatment. It is expensive but it will help them grow back and I'm certainly not paying for it."

Sherlock was quick to agree and eagerly nodded his head. "Anything."

A thought came into Sherry's head. A perfect thought that made her grin.

Sherlock stared at her uneasily. "What? What is it?" The suspense was killing him as he hated not knowing things.

Sherry beamed. "For me to forgive you fully though, you're going to have to do something for me."

Sherlock nodded once more. "Anything. What is it?"

Sherry reached for something and clasped it in her palm so Sherlock couldn't see it.

"Hurry up Sherry. Come on what is it?"

But he regretted asking that question when Sherry opened her hand and he saw the tube of superglue resting there.

Fuck.

So the next day when Sherry, Sherlock and John were called to a crime scene, the former two were certainly given some strange looks.

"What happened to your eyelashes?" Lestrade asked curiously.

Sherry shrugged. "They were in our way." And she and Sherlock walked off but not before the former discreetly slipped her superglue-mascara into Donovan's bag.


End file.
